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Three Men Who Argued With God and Would Not Let Go

Jacob wrestled an angel until dawn and demanded a blessing. Job accused heaven of injustice and God called him correct. Solomon built a throne to mirror it.

Curated by Arthur · Told by Maggid ·
Table of Contents
  1. The Blessing Jacob Demanded at the Ford
  2. What Job Said in the Whirlwind
  3. The Throne Solomon Built to Echo the Heavenly Court
  4. What All Three Men Have in Common

The Blessing Jacob Demanded at the Ford

Jacob crossed the Jabbok alone at night and something found him in the dark. They wrestled until the sky lightened, and when the being could not break him, it displaced the socket of his thigh. Even then Jacob refused to release his grip. He had one condition: a blessing. He had not asked permission. He had not prayed quietly and waited. He had seized something divine and held on through pain until it gave him what he wanted, and then he walked forward into the morning with a limp and a new name.

The Book of Jasher, an ancient Hebrew chronicle that expands the patriarchal narrative, follows Jacob decades later to Bethel, where God had first appeared to him in the dream of the ladder. Jacob is ninety-nine years old by then. He buries Deborah beneath an oak. He mourns his mother Rebecca, dead in Hebron at a hundred and thirty-three. He mourns Laban, struck down for violating the covenant he had made with Jacob. Loss on every side, and Jacob builds an altar. God appears again, blesses him again, reaffirms his name as Israel. Jacob plants a pillar of stone, pours oil over it, and calls the place holy.

This is what the wrestling match established as a permanent condition. Jacob's entire relationship with God is characterized by engagement. He does not receive the divine passively. He grabs hold of it and demands that it yield.

What Job Said in the Whirlwind

Job came from a different tradition. The Legends of the Jews, Louis Ginzberg's monumental compilation of Talmudic and midrashic sources, identifies him as doubly related to Jacob: a grandson of Esau on one side and the son-in-law of Jacob through Dinah on the other. He was the most righteous Gentile who ever lived. He was called a servant of God, which is a title of the highest honor. He had everything.

Then he had nothing, and he said so directly to the heavens. For thirty-seven chapters he named what had been done to him. He called it unjust. He called the silence of heaven intolerable. He demanded a hearing. His three friends spent the same chapters defending God's honor and explaining why Job must have deserved what happened to him.

At the end of the book, God speaks from the whirlwind and declares that Job spoke correctly. Not the friends. Job. The man who accused. The man who argued. The man who held on to his grief and his outrage and refused to pretend the destruction was right. God said he had spoken the truth, and the defenders of heaven had spoken what was false.

The rabbis spent generations with that verdict. It inverts every assumption about what God wants from human prayer. It says that complaint offered honestly to heaven is more righteous than pious acceptance of a situation that does not make sense.

The Throne Solomon Built to Echo the Heavenly Court

Solomon did not argue with God. He built something. According to the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, a twelfth-century Hebrew chronicle preserved by Moses Gaster, Solomon's throne was a machine of ivory and gold that no other king could replicate. Ahasuerus spent three years trying and failed completely.

The throne had six ascending pathways. On every step stood two golden lions, one on each side. When Solomon placed his foot on the first step, the lion on the right stretched out its paw, revealing an inscription: do not respect persons in judgment. The lion on the left bore another: do not accept any bribe. At every step, a commandment appeared. The throne forced the king to read the law before he sat in judgment.

At the summit sat a golden eagle holding a golden crown, which it placed on the king's head each time he was seated. The animals on the steps were not decorations. They were witnesses. They were a court built to mirror the heavenly court that Daniel would later see in vision, the one with the Ancient of Days seated while thousands upon thousands stood in attendance. Solomon had tried to reproduce that architecture on earth, to make justice visible, to make every act of kingship an act of deliberate imitation of heaven's standard.

What All Three Men Have in Common

Jacob wrestled and demanded. Job accused and was vindicated. Solomon constructed a mirror of the divine court and sat in it with the commandments surrounding him on every side.

None of them approaches God with the posture of a suppliant who hopes to go unnoticed. All three engage at full force. Jacob physically. Job rhetorically. Solomon architecturally. All three are recognized and blessed, in one form or another, by the tradition that preserved their stories.

The Book of Jasher records Jacob still building altars at ninety-nine, still receiving divine blessing, still marking sacred ground with stone and oil. Job ends the book restored, with new children and new flocks and the confirmed title of correct speaker. Solomon's throne, even after the Temple burned and the fruit fell from the golden trees, was famous enough that kings of later generations tried for years to copy it.

What the tradition is preserving in all three cases is a theology of vigorous engagement. The God who was known to Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Job and Solomon is not served best by quietness. He is served best by the full force of a person who takes seriously what that person is facing and brings it all to the relationship without softening it first.


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The texts this telling draws on, in full. Open a card to read inline, or expand it for a wider, quieter read.

Jasher 36Book of Jasher

Book of Jasher turns to Jacob Returns to Bethel and Builds an Altar.

Even in this sacred space, life keeps happening. She's buried beneath an oak tree near Bethel.

Then, a heavy blow: Rebecca, Jacob’s mother, dies in Hebron at the age of 133. The Book of Jasher emphasizes Jacob's profound grief. He weeps bitterly, mourning not only his mother but also Deborah. He names the place Allon-bachuth, meaning "oak of weeping."

If that wasn't enough, Laban, the tricky uncle, also dies around this time. That God smote him for violating the covenant he made with Jacob. A reminder that actions have consequences, even for family.

Amidst all this loss, there's a glimmer of hope. At 100 years old, God appears to Jacob again, blesses him, and reaffirms his name as Israel. And Rachel, Jacob’s beloved wife, conceives.

The family then journeys from Bethel toward Hebron, to Jacob's father's house. But tragedy strikes again. As they approach Ephrath, Rachel goes into a difficult labor and dies giving birth to her son. Jacob buries her on the road to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem, marking her grave with a pillar that, stands to this day. She was only 45 years old. Jacob names the son born of this sorrow Benjamin, which the text explains as meaning "born to him in the land on the right hand."

After Rachel's death, Jacob moves his tent into that of Bilhah, Rachel's handmaid. This act sparks jealousy in Reuben, Jacob's eldest son, who is fiercely protective of his mother Leah. In his anger, Reuben removes his father's bed from Bilhah's tent.

Now, this act has significant consequences. According to the Book of Jasher, Reuben's actions lead to the removal of the birthright, the kingly office, and the priesthood from his lineage. The birthright goes to Joseph, the kingship to Judah, and the priesthood to Levi. All because Reuben "defiled his father's bed."

The text then lists the sons of Jacob, reminding us of the twelve tribes of Israel. It names the sons of Leah, Rachel, Zilpah, and Bilhah, solidifying the family's lineage.

Jacob and his family eventually arrive in Mamre, near Hebron, where Abraham and Isaac had lived. They settle there with Jacob's father, Isaac. Meanwhile, Esau and his descendants move to the land of Seir, where they prosper.

The chapter concludes with a genealogy of Esau's descendants and the families of Seir the Horite, the original inhabitants of the land. There’s even a strange tale about Anah, son of Zibeon, who, while tending his father’s asses, encounters bizarre creatures emerging from the sea – beings that are human from the waist down but have the upper bodies of bears and other fearsome animals. These creatures ride the asses away, never to be seen again. It's a curious, almost surreal, interlude.

It also notes that Timna, the sister of Lotan, desired to marry into Jacob's family, but was rejected. She then became a concubine to Eliphaz, Esau's son, and bore him Amalek - a name that would later become synonymous with Israel's enemies.

So, what do we take away from this chapter? It's a potent reminder that life is woven from threads of joy and sorrow, blessings and challenges. It shows us how families are built, how lineages are forged, and how even in the midst of loss, life goes on. The story of Jacob, Rachel, and their sons is a story of resilience, faith, and the enduring power of family, even when faced with unimaginable hardship. And perhaps, a little bit of the bizarre too.

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Legends of the Jews, II. The Sons Of Jacob, Job And The PatriarchsLegends of the Jews

The Book of Job, of course, tells the story of a man who suffers immensely, testing his faith. But the Legends of the Jews, as retold by Ginzberg, adds layers to this familiar narrative. It paints Job as exceptionally righteous, “the most pious Gentile that ever lived,” even calling him "the servant of God", a high honor indeed! But get this: he was also doubly related to Jacob, making him almost part of the family. He was both a grandson of Esau (Jacob’s brother) AND the son-in-law of Jacob, having married Dinah as his second wife.

So, why isn’t it "the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Job"? What kept Job from reaching that ultimate level of recognition?

In legends, Job’s downfall was his lack of unwavering faith during his trials. He “murmured against God.” Had he remained steadfast, the honor of having his name joined to God’s in prayer would have been his. People would call upon "the God of Job" just as they call upon the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Pretty powerful stuff.

God, as the legends tell it, even remonstrated with Job. "Why didst thou murmur when suffering came upon thee?" He asks, in so many words. "Do you think you are better than Adam, who I punished with death for a single transgression, and he didn't complain? Are you greater than Abraham, whom I tested relentlessly, and who never murmured? Are you more worthy than Moses, who I denied entry into the Promised Land, and yet he accepted it silently? Or even Aaron, who experienced the tragic loss of his sons without complaint?"

Wow. Talk about putting things into perspective.

The contrast between Job and the Patriarchs is stark. As Ginzberg points out, Abraham, addressing God, said, "That be far from Thee to do after this manner, to slay the righteous with the wicked, that so the righteous should be as the wicked." In contrast, Job exclaimed against God, "It is all one; therefore I say, He destroyeth the perfect and the wicked." Both spoke their minds, but their perspectives. And their fates, differed greatly. Abraham was rewarded, and Job. well, Job was punished, or at least, severely tested.

Job, convinced of his innocence, even dared to accuse God of injustice. As Ginzberg phrases it, Job had the audacity to say to God: "O Lord of the world. Thou createst the righteous and also the wicked. There is none to hinder, Thou canst do as seemeth good in Thy sight." In other words, "You made everything, so if things are bad, it's on you!"

His friends, of course, jumped in to defend God. "It is true, God hath created the yetzer hara (evil inclination)," they argued, "but He hath also given man the Torah as a remedy against it." The Torah, in this view, provides the tools to overcome our base impulses. Therefore, the wicked can't just blame God for their actions.

But why did Job go so far? Why these "extravagant utterances"? The legends suggest it was because Job didn’t believe in the resurrection of the dead. He only saw earthly rewards and punishments. Thus, he concluded that his suffering must be a mistake; God must have confused him with someone else.

God, in response, delivers a powerful, almost poetic rebuke, highlighting the intricate precision of the universe. "Many hairs have I created upon the head of man, yet each hair hath its own sac. Should I, then, have mistaken Job for another?" And so on, with rain drops, thunderbolts, gazelles, and hinds. The message is clear: The universe is meticulously crafted and maintained. Nothing is random. How could God possibly make such a fundamental mistake as to inflict suffering on the wrong person?

Even with Job’s harsh words, God wasn’t happy with his friends’ harsh judgment. After all, "A man may not be held responsible for what he does in his anguish," and Job’s suffering was immense.

So, what can we take away from this? Job's story reminds us that even the most righteous among us can falter in the face of extreme adversity. It's a story about faith, doubt, and the immense challenge of accepting what we don't understand. And perhaps, it’s a reminder that even when we feel like God has made a mistake, there might be a larger, incomprehensible plan at play. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s a evidence of the importance of unwavering faith, even when the world seems to be falling apart.

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Chronicles of Jerahmeel LXXXIVChronicles of Jerahmeel (Gaster, 1899)

Solomon's throne was not a chair. It was a machine, a towering structure of ivory, gold, and living mechanisms that no king could ever replicate. According to the Chronicles of Jerahmeel, a 12th-century Hebrew chronicle preserved by Moses Gaster in 1899, Ahasuerus spent three years trying to have craftsmen build a copy. They failed completely.

The throne had six ascending pathways, each lined with steps. On every step stood two golden lions, one on the right and one on the left. These were not decorations. When Solomon placed his foot on the first step, the lion on the right stretched out its paw, revealing an inscription: "You shall not respect persons in judgment." The lion on the left bore another: "You shall not accept any bribe." At every step, Solomon was forced to read a commandment about justice before he could ascend further.

The steps were set with precious stones, red, white, and green. And flanked by golden palm trees where eagles, peacocks, and songbirds nested. On either side of the throne sat golden seats for Gad the seer and Nathan the prophet, surrounded by seventy golden chairs for the judges of the Sanhedrin (the supreme rabbinic court). A golden lamp stood before the throne, sculpted with the seven patriarchs on one side, Adam, Noah, Shem, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Job. And seven righteous men on the other.

Clean and unclean animals faced each other on the steps: ox opposite lion, goat opposite wolf, eagle opposite dove. As Solomon ascended, each animal lifted him to the next level. At the top, birds burst into song, trees released perfume, and a golden serpent coiled around him, seating him on the throne. Eagles placed the crown on his head while every beast proclaimed: "Long may the kingdom of the house of David be established." When people came for judgment, the entire throne erupted, lions roaring, bears howling, eagles shrieking, to terrify anyone who might lie.

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Jasher 56Book of Jasher

Book of Jasher turns to Jacob Before the Flood.

In Jasher, Jacob lived in Egypt for seventeen years, reaching the ripe old age of 147. As his health began to fail, he summoned Joseph, his beloved son, from Egypt. Jacob, knowing his time was near, made Joseph and his other sons swear an oath: to bury him in the cave of Machpelah in Hebron, the final resting place of his ancestors. He commanded them to serve God, reminding them that the one who delivered their fathers would also deliver them from all trouble.

The passage describes two separate blessings. First, Jacob gathered all his grandchildren and blessed them, invoking the blessings of Abraham and multiplying them a thousandfold. Then, the next day, he called his sons together for individual blessings, "each man did he bless according to his blessing," as it says in Jasher. (This aligns with the more cryptic blessings we find in Genesis 49).

One blessing stands out: Judah. Jacob prophesied that Judah would reign over his brethren, and that his sons would reign over their sons forever. But there's a condition: Judah must teach his sons archery and the weapons of war, so they could fight for their brother who would rule over his enemies. This hints at the future Davidic line, which would indeed come from the tribe of Judah.

Jacob then gave specific instructions for his funeral procession. Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun were to carry the bier on the east side; Reuben, Simeon, and Gad on the south; Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin on the west; and Dan, Asher, and Naphtali on the north. Levi was excluded because his descendants would carry the Ark of the Covenant. Joseph, as a king, was also excluded, but his sons, Ephraim and Manasseh, would take his place.

And here's a touching moment: Jacob asks Joseph to forgive his brothers for their past misdeeds. “O my son," he says, "leave not thy brethren to the inhabitants of Egypt, neither hurt their feelings, for behold I consign them to the hand of God and in thy hand to guard them from the Egyptians." It’s a plea for unity and forgiveness, recognizing that even past wrongs can serve a greater purpose.

After giving his final instructions, Jacob died. The mourning was immense. Joseph wept openly, and his son's wives and the entire household joined in the lamentation. They tore their garments, wore sackcloth, and cast dust upon their heads, classic signs of grief. The Egyptians, too, mourned Jacob for seventy days.

Joseph then sought permission from Pharaoh to fulfill his oath to bury his father in Canaan. Pharaoh not only granted permission but issued a proclamation: anyone who didn't accompany Joseph and his brethren to bury Jacob would face death! So, a massive procession formed, a spectacle fit for a king.

The description of the funeral procession is quite elaborate. The bier was made of pure gold, inlaid with precious stones. Joseph placed a golden crown on his father's head and a golden scepter in his hand, honoring him as if he were still alive. The troops of Egypt, mighty men of Pharaoh and Joseph, all girded with swords and coats of mail, marched in formation. Weepers and mourners led the way, followed by the bier, and then the rest of the people. Joseph and his household walked barefooted near the bier, surrounded by armed servants. Fifty of Jacob's servants scattered myrrh, aloes, and perfumes along the road.

The procession reached the threshing floor of Atad, beyond the Jordan River, where they mourned with exceeding great sorrow. News of Jacob's death reached the kings of Canaan, and thirty-one of them came with their men to join the mourning. Seeing Joseph's crown upon the bier, they added their own crowns, encircling it in tribute.

But the story doesn't end there. Esau, Jacob's estranged brother, arrived with his sons and a large company. He challenged Joseph's right to bury Jacob in the cave of Machpelah, claiming it belonged to him. Joseph countered, stating that Jacob had bought the cave from Esau years ago. Esau denied the sale, knowing that Joseph wasn't present at the time.

Joseph sent Naphtali, known for his swiftness, to Egypt to retrieve the records of the purchase. While Naphtali was gone, Esau and his sons attacked Joseph and his brethren, leading to a battle.

And here comes the unlikely hero: Chushim, the deaf and dumb son of Dan. Though unable to hear or speak, he understood the commotion. Learning of Esau's challenge, he ran into the midst of the battle and slew Esau with a sword, cutting off his head! With Esau out of the way, the sons of Jacob prevailed and buried their father in the cave of Machpelah.

The Book of Jasher tells us that no king had ever been honored as Joseph honored his father. After the burial, Joseph and his brethren observed a seven-day mourning period.

So, what do we make of this elaborate tale? It's a powerful evidence of the importance of honoring our ancestors, fulfilling our promises, and maintaining family unity even in the face of conflict. It also highlights the enduring legacy of Jacob, whose life continues to inspire and challenge us centuries later.

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